The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet: Stephaim Style
by SmilesSaveLives
Summary: When their two families have been fighting for as long as anyone can remember, falling in love should be out of the question. But, against all odds, it happens.
1. Cast List

**A/N**

**Ladies and gentlemen, hello and welcome to **_**The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet: Stephaim Style!**_** I've decided to combine my fav characters from HON (Stevie Rae and Rephaim), my fav play, and my imagination to create this FanFic. Bear with me; I know this is a long A/N. Before I go on, I would like to thank IloveZimandNny16 for being the only person to vote/review on Chapter 3 of **_**In a Perfect World**_**. I will be continuing that story, but I wanted to write more FanFics as I have tons of ideas. And because IloveZimandNny16 voted for all of the choices, I guess I have to start all of them. So… here goes. For now, you should know I'm not gonna stop until I finish making a Stephaim version of all the scenes in R+J, and I will also be adding my own scenes too. This is the cast list so you know who is who in this FanFic (characters are from HON), and what role they will have in the story (plot mostly from R+J). Okay, I guess I'll shut up now, but first a disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer:**

**Smiley: Do I own the overall plot? Nope. Do I own any of the characters? Nope. Do I own R+J? Nope. Do I own HON? Wait for it—nope.**

**~Smiley**

Cast List:

Narrator: Me! (Smiley)

Juliet Capulet: Stevie Rae Johnson

Romeo Montague: Rephaim

Lord Capulet (Juliet's dad): John Johnson (Stevie Rae's dad)

Lady Capulet (Juliet's mom): Virginia "Ginny" Johnson (Stevie Rae's mom)

Nurse (Juliet's nanny and trusted friend): Zoey Redbird (Stevie Rae's best friend)

Sam (Capulet servent): Sam Johnson (Stevie Rae's brother)

Gregory (Capulet servant): Gregory Johnson (Stevie Rae's brother)

Peter (Nurse's servant): Heath

Mertcutio: Stark

Benvolio: Nisroc

Lord Montague (Romeo's dad): Kalona

Lady Montague (Romeo's mom): Rephaim's current stepmom

Tybalt: Danny (Stevie Rae's brother)

Prince Esculas (Prince of Verona): himself

Paris: Dallas

Frair Laurence: himself

**A/N**

**Review? Please?**

**~Smiley**


	2. Prologue

**A/N**

**This is the prologue:**

_Italicized is the actual R+J Prologue._

Normal is my version/translation of the prologue.

**Disclaimer: I do not own the beautiful Romeo and Juliet prologue. I do not own R+J. That all belongs to Shakespeare.**

**R+R please!**

_Two households, both alike in dignity_

Two very stuck-up families

_In fair Verona, where we lay our scene_

Who happen to live in Verona (Italy?)

_From ancient grudge break to new mutiny_

A stupid old fight causes new ones

_When civil blood makes civil hands unclean_

And these new fights cause problems for everyone

_From forth the fatal loins of these two foes_

A child from each of these two enemies

_A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life_

These doomed lovers kill themselves

_Whose misadventured piteous overthrows_

Their untimely death overthrows

_Doth with their death bury their parents strife_

Their death brings an end to the fight

_The fearful passage of their death-marked love_

The fearful passage of their doomed love

_And the continuance of their parents' rage_

And the ongoing feud

_Which, but their children's end, naught could remove_

Which, but their deaths, nothing could stop

_Is now the two hours traffic of our stage_

Is now this fanfic

_The which, if you with patient ears attend_

If you read on patiently

_What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend_

You'll soon understand what's not explained here.

**A/N**

**Isn't the actual prologue soooo beautiful? (*sighs*) R&R please!**


	3. Act 1 Scene 1

**A/N**

**Hello and welcome back to **_**The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet: Stephaim Style**_**. Thanks to IloveZimandNny16, 3TaylorSwiftFan3 (I love Taylor Swift too), and houseofnightfan for reviewing! To answer IloveZimandNny16's question/comment/concern (and I'm not offended), the scenes done will not switch on and off from the original to the FF. Also, they will be talking in modern English to all those concerned. Thanks for your support and reviews houseofnightfan and 3TaylorSwiftFan3! It really means a lot! Without further ado, I present the first scene of The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet: Stephaim Style. But first, a disclaimer!**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own HON or R+J. It would be sooooooo cool if I did, but I don't.**

**~Smiley**

Act 1, Scene 1

(curtain)

"I swear, I won't take it anymore. They keep shitting on us, and I won't take it," Sam Johnson complained to his brother Gregory as they walked through the streets of Verona.

"No, because then we'd be toilets," he teased, looking at the stands of the market.

"What I mean is, if they make us angry, we'll fight them," Sam explained, looking frustrated.

"Maybe you should focus more on pulling yourself out of trouble, Sampson," Gregory advised, adding Sam's full name to the end just to annoy him.

"I hit hard when I'm angry," Sam said.

"But it's hard to make you angry," Gregory added.

"Those bastard Raven Mockers make me angry," Sam said through clenched teeth.

"Angry enough to run away. You won't stand and fight," Gregory said.

"I'd fight one of those birds."

"The fight is between our father and Kalona."

"So? That means it's our fight too."

As he said the words, one of the sons of Kalona, who had come to be called Raven Mockers, rounded the corner with one of his friends.

"Get your knife out! Those guys are Raven Mockers!" Gregory whispered to Sam.

"My knife's out! Fight, I have your back," Sam answered instantaneously.

"How will you back me up—by turning your back and running away?" Gregory teased.

"Don't worry about me," Sam said.

"No, really. I am worried about you!" Gregory said sarcastically.

Ignoring the comment, Sam said, "Let's not get in trouble by starting a fight. We should let them start something."

"Fine, then. I'll make a face at them as they pass by, and they can react however they want."

"You mean however they dare. I'll take it a step further: I'll give them the finger. If they let me get away with that, then they're insulting themselves." Sam holds up his middle finger.

The Raven Mocker said, "Hey, are sticking your middle finger up at us?"

"I'm holding up my middle finger," Sam answered vaguely.

"Yes, but are you us giving us the finger?" he asked.

Sam leaned towards Gregory and whispered, "Is the law on our side if I say yes?"

"No!" Gregory whispered back.

Sam scratched his nose with his finger. "Then no, I am not holding up my middle finger at you, but I am holding up my middle finger."

"Are you trying to start a fight?" Gregory asked the Raven Mocker.

"Me? No, no," he answered, shaking his head.

"If you want to start a fight, I'm your man. My dad's as good as yours," Sam said.

"No better," the Raven Mocker agreed.

"Well then," Sam said.

Meanwhile, Nisroc walked through the market, and Gregory spied him.

"Say 'better.' Here comes one of his brothers," Gregory whispered to Sam.

"Yes, my father is better," Sam said to the Raven Mocker.

"You lie," he snarled.

"Pull out your knife if you're a man. Gregory, remember how to slash," Sam said, and, with that, they fought. Knife to knife, fist to fist, the four men battled each other in the once peaceful streets of Verona.

Seeing this, Nisroc pulled out his knife and said, "Break it up, you idiots! Put your knives away. You don't know what you're doing!"

Then, Danny Johnson rounded the corner and saw the fight, and Nisroc with his knife out. "What? You've pulled out your knife to fight with these boys? Turn around, Nisroc, and look at the man who's going to kill you."

"I'm only trying to break it up. Either put your knife away or use it to help me stop the fight."

"You pull out your knife and then talk about peace? I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Johnsons, and you. Fight me, coward!" Danny yelled and lunged at Nisroc.

Only trying to defend himself, Nisroc fought back. Then other citizens joined in, and soon the peaceful market crumbled to chaos.

Then John Johnson entered the scene with his wife, Virginia Johnson. "What's this? I need my long knife! Come on!" he shouted to a servant.

"You need a walking stick. Why are you asking for a knife?" Ginny asked while Kalona came with his current wife came to the chaotic market.

"I want my knife. Kalona is here, waving his knife around just to make me mad."

"Johnson! You bastard!" Kalona starts forward, but his wife holds him back. "Don't stop me; let me go."

"You're not taking one step toward an enemy." With the hand that wasn't on his arm, she rubbed her round stomach. However, Kalona steps away and joins the fight.

Fortunately, the fight didn't last much longer. Prince Escalus, the prince of Verona, soon comes onto the scene with his escort. Infuriated with what he was seeing, the Prince shouted, "You rebels! You enemies of peace! How dare you call yourselves men when you turn your weapons against your own neighbors. You there! You men—no beasts—who satisfy your anger with fountains of each other's blood! I will have you tortured if you do not lay down your weapons and listen to me!" The only sound was the clatters of knives and various other weapons against the street. "This is the third time riots have broken out in this city, all because of a casual word from you, old John and Kalona. Three times the peace have been disturbed in these fair streets of Verona, and the other citizens have had to get themselves dirty to part you fools. If you ever cause a fight on our streets again, your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. You, Johnson, come with me. Kalona, this afternoon come to the court, and I'll tell you what else I want from you. As for the rest of you, I'll say this once more: go away or be put to death." With that, the prince, followed by Johnson, left, and the crowd departed as well.

Kalona turned to his second-eldest. "Who started this old fight up again? Were you here when it started?"

"Maion and his friend were fighting your enemy's sons, Sam and Gregory, I believe. I pulled out my knife to part them, but then that hotheaded Danny showed up with his knife ready. He taunted me and waved his weapon around, and as we were trading blows, more and more people joined the fight, until the Prince broke everyone up," Nisroc answered.

"Oh where's Rephaim?" Persephone, Kalona's wife, asked. She had always been particularly fond of Rephaim, just like Kalona. "Have you seen him today? I'm glad he wasn't here for this fight."

"Actually, I had a lot on my mind an hour before dawn this morning, so I went for a walk. Underneath the Sycamore grove on the west side of the city, I spotted and headed towards him. However, he saw me coming and hid in the woods. I figured he must be feeling the same way I was: wanting to be alone and tired of company. I assumed he was avoiding me, and I was perfectly happy to not search for a man who did not want to be found," Nisroc said, shrugging.

Kalona sighed. "He's been there many mornings, crying tears that only add drops to the morning dew and making a cloudy day cloudier with his sighs. But as soon as the sun rises, my sad son comes home to escape the light. He locks himself in his bedroom, closes his curtains to keep out the daylight, and makes himself an artificial night. His mood is only to bring bad news, unless someone can help him with whatever his bothering him."

"Why do you think he's so upset?" Nisroc asked.

"I don't know, and he refuses to tell me," Kalona said sadly.

"Have you tried everything you could to make him tell you the reason?" Nisroc asked, the gears of his mind turning.

"I have, and so have many of his friends and brothers, but he keeps his secret locked away, perhaps he's forgotten where he left the key. If only we could find out why he's sad; I'd be as eager to help him as I am to find out the reason for his sadness."

Over to the right, they see Rephaim walking, looking down and kicking the rocks on the pavement. "Here he comes," Nisroc said. "If you don't mind, Father, can you leave so I may talk to him alone. He'll either have to tell me what's wrong or tell me no over and over."

"I hope you're lucky enough to hear the true story by standing your ground. He may tell you, after all he's closer to you than any of his other brothers," Kalona said, then turned to his wife. "Come, my love, let's go."

Nisroc called, "Rephaim! Wait!" Rephaim looked back, and for a second he considered bolting, but he knew Nisroc would probably follow. So he leaned back against one of the walls of the alley and waited for Nisroc to catch up. "Good morning, brother," Nisroc greeted.

"Is it really still morning?" Rephaim asked.

"It's only nine o'clock," Nisroc answered.

"Oh," Rephaim said. "Time goes by so slow when you're sad. Was that Father who left in such a hurry?"

"Uh-huh. What's making you so sad and your hours so long?" Nisroc asked.

"I don't have the thing that makes time fly," Rephaim answered vaguely.

"You're in love?" Nisroc asked.

"Out," Rephaim corrected.

"Of love?" Nisroc asked.

"I love someone, but she doesn't love me."

"Upsetting. Love looks nice, but it's actually very cruel when you experience it."

"What's sad is that love is supposed to be blind, but it can still make you do whatever it wants. So, where should we eat?" That's when Rephaim spotted some blood on the street. "What the hell happened here? Another fight? No, don't tell me—I already know all about the fight and all that happened. It has a lot to do with hatred, but it has even more to do with love. Brawling love, loving hate, love that comes from nothing! Sad happiness, serious foolishness, beautiful things muddled together into a big ugly mess! Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake—it's everything except what it is! This is the love I feel, though no one loves me back. Hey, are you laughing?"

"No, brother, I'm crying," Nisroc answered.

"Why are you crying?" Rephaim asked.

"I'm crying because of how sad you are," Nisroc said.

"I guess that's what love does. My sadness sits heavy in my chest, and you want to add your own sadness to mine so there's even more. I have far too much sadness to deal with already, and now you're going to make me sadder by feeling sorry for you. Love is a smoke made out of lover's sighs. When the smoke clears, love is a fire burning in your lover's eyes. If you frustrate love, you get an ocean made out of lover's tears. What else is love? It's a wise form of madness. It's a sweet lozenge that you choke on." Rephaim said, then added, "Good-bye, Nisroc," and turned away.

"Wait! I'll come with you. If you leave me like this, you're doing me wrong," Nisroc said.

"I'm not myself. I'm not here. This isn't Rephaim—he's gone to the place unloved lovers go."

"Tell me seriously, who is the one you're so in love with?" Nisroc asked.

"Seriously? You mean I should groan and tell you?" Rephaim said.

"Groan? No. But seriously, tell me who it is."

"You wouldn't tell a sick man he has to seriously make his will—it would just make him worse. Seriously, brother, I love a woman."

"I guessed that already when you said you were in love," Nisroc said, strolling the streets with Rephaim.

"Then you were right on target, and she is a beautiful woman," Rephaim said.

"A beautiful target is the one that gets hit the fastest," Nisroc stated.

"Well, you completely missed the target there. She refuses to be hit by Cupid's arrow. She's as clever as Diana, and shielded by the armor of chastity. She can't be touched by weak and childish arrows of love. She won't listen to words of love, or let you look at her with loving eyes, or anything further. She's rich in beauty, but she's also poor, because when she dies her beauty will be destroyed with her."

"So she's made a vow to be a virgin forever?" Nisroc concluded.

"Yes, she has," Rephaim answered sadly, "and by doing that, she wastes her beauty. If you're vowed to be forever chased you can't have children, and so your beauty is lost to future generations. She's too beautiful and too wise to deserve heaven's blessing by making me despair." Rephaim sighed. "She's sworn off love, and that promise has left me alive but dead, and only left me alive to talk about it now."

"Here's some simple advice: don't think about her," Nisroc said.

"That's not so simple. Teach me to forget to think!" Rephaim said.

"Do it by letting your eyes wander freely. Look at all the other beautiful girls in this city," Nisroc said, smiling and waving at some girls by a wall, who blushed and giggled.

"That will only make me think more about how beautiful she is. A man who goes blind can't forget the precious eyesight he lost. Show me a really beautiful girl. Her beauty is like a note telling me where I can see someone even more beautiful. Good-bye, Nisroc. Not even you can teach me to forget." Rephaim said, walking away.

"I'll show you how to forget, or else I'll die owing you that lesson," Nisroc called after him.

(and scene)

**A/N**

**If you liked it, review! If you hated it, review! Please, please, pretty please review!**

**Btw, if anyone wants to read the original R+J with a complete translation, type "no fear shakespeare romeo and juliet" into the google search engine and click on the first link (the actual web address wasn't showing up, sorry). It's a great website, and it's helped me a lot both in school and with this FF. On one side, it has the original, and on the other, it has it all in modern day English. So, to all those interested, go to that website. I heart it!**

**~Smiley**


	4. Act 1 Scene 2

**A/N**

**Thanks to IloveZimandNny16 and houseofnightfan for reviewing! Thanks soooo much for support; you guys rock!**

**Houseofnightfan: yeah, Nisroc being all nice and whatnot is a little different. But I have a reason for it! Remember in Destined when Dragon was all like "Im gonna kill you stupid RMs!"? Rephaim described Nisroc as "looking like he wanted to retreat." Benvolio (Nisroc in the FF) never ever wants to start fights, and will often try to stop them from happening. However, he will fight to defend himself. That and because Nisroc is Rephaim most popular brother made Nisroc Benvolio. Now I hope you and anyone else who was wondering understands my enigma of a mind a little bit more.**

**Now, onto the next scene! But first a disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own R+J or HON. I probably won't ever own it (except maybe in my dreams).**

**~Smiley**

Act 1 Scene 2

(curtain)

In the Johnson's mansion, John and Dallas are deep in conversation. However, as they pace the halls of the great house, only a servant witnesses their conversation.

"…but Kalona has sworn the same oath I have, and he's under the same penalty. I don't believe it will be hard for men as old as we are to keep the peace," John said to Dallas.

"You both have honorable reputations, and it's too bad you've been enemies for so long. But what do you say to my request?" Dallas said.

"I can only say what I've said before. Stevie Rae is still very young, not even seventeen yet. Let's wait a couple more years before we start thinking she's ready to be married," John said to the hopeful Dallas.

"Many girls younger than her have married and become happy mothers," Dallas insisted.

"Girls who marry too young grow up too soon. But go ahead and charm her, gentle Dallas; let her grow and fall in love with you. My permission is only part of her decision. If she agrees to marry you, my blessing and fair words will only confirm her choice," John said with a wave of his hand. Then he continued, "Tonight I'm having my annual feast. I've invited a lot of my closest friends, and I'd be very pleased if you came too. You can expect to see many wonderful things there, including many young women. Look at anyone you like and choose whoever seems best to you. Once you see many girls, my daughter may not seem like the most beautiful anymore. Please, come with me."

Then John spoke to Heath, the servant witnessing the conversation, handing him a list of people. "Go and walk around Verona. Find the people on this list and tell them they're invited to my house tonight."

The John and Dallas walked away, leaving Heath to mentally implode as he stared at the paper in his hand. "Oh, I'm screwed!" he shouted as soon as they were out of earshot. "I've been sent to find the people on this list, but I can't read! I'll never find anyone on my own." Heath ran out of the mansion and onto the streets, telling himself, "I've got to find someone who can read."

Down the block, he spotted Nisroc and Rephaim, who were walking in his general direction. "Thank God!" Heath whispered to himself. "Here come some people, right in the nick of time.

Meanwhile, Nisroc is continuing to try and cure Rephaim of his lovesickness. "C'mon, dude. It's not that complicated. You can put one fire out by starting another. A new pain will make the one you already have seem less painful. If you make yourself dizzy, you can cure yourself by spinning around in the opposite direction. A new grief will make you forget the old one."

Rephaim just looked at him questioningly. Nisroc sighed. "It's like when you're hung-over and drink more vodka or whatever to ease the symptoms. Make yourself lovesick by gazing at a new girl, and your old lovesickness will be cured."

"A plantain leaf is excellent for that," Rephaim said. **(A/N a plantain leaf was thought to have healing powers)**

"For what, Rephaim?" Nisroc asked.

"For when you cut your shin," Rephaim said. Nisroc looked at him like he was certifiably insane.

"What? Rephaim, have you lost it?"

"I'm not crazy, but I'm tied tighter than a mental patient in a straightjacket. I'm a food-deprived prisoner. I'm whipped and tortured and—" Rephaim started, but stopped speaking when a wild-eyed man walked up to them. "Good evening, good fellow," Rephaim said to Heath.

"Blessed be. Excuse me, sir, but do you know how to read?" Heath asked them.

"I can read my own fortune in my misery," Rephaim answered, kind of.

"Perhaps you've learned from life and not from books. But please, can you read anything you see?" Heath asked, clutching the paper.

"If I know the language and the letters."

_Crap._ Heath thought. _This guy doesn't know his letters. How is he supposed to help me? _"I see. Well, that's an honest answer. Have a nice day."

"Wait! I can read." Rephaim scans the letter and reads, "Damien Maslin, Jack Twist, Shaunee Cole, Erin Bates, Kramisha, Johnny B, Aphrodite LaFont and her warrior Darius, the wise Sylvia Redbird, Sister Mary Angela, Erik Night, James Stark, Dragon and Anastasia Lankford, Lenobia, and my niece Rosaline." Then he said, "That's a nice group of people. Where are they supposed to go?"

"Up," Heath answered.

"Where? To dinner?" Rephaim asked.

"To our house," Heath said.

"Whose house?" Rephaim questioned.

"My employer's house."

"Oh, I should have asked you before who he was," Rephaim said.

"Well, now I'll tell you so you don't have to ask. My master is the great and rich John Johnson, and if you're not a Raven Mocker, you should come and crack a beer with us. Have a nice day!" With that, Heath left, looking like the weight of the sky had been lifted off his shoulders

"The beautiful Rosaline who you love so much will be at Johnson's annual feast, along with every beautiful woman in Verona. You should go and compare her with the other girls I'll show you," Nisroc stated. Then he quoted, "Compare her face with some that I shall show, and I will make thee think thy swan a crow."

Rephaim smirked at him for the quote, but said, "If my eyes ever lie to me like that, let my tears burn them for being such liars. No one is or has ever been more beautiful than Rosaline."

"You decided that she was beautiful when you were all alone, which means there was no one to compare her too. But when you compare her to the other beautiful girls at the feast, you won't think she's the best anymore," Nisroc insisted.

"I'll go along, but your attempts will only prove she's the best. I'm only going so I can see her again," Rephaim semi-agreed.

(and scene)

**A/N**

**Please review! It would make me soooooo happy!**

**~Smiley**


	5. Act 1 Scene 3

**A/N**

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Specifically…**

**-houseofnightfan: Thanks! And I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but he doesn't meet Stevie Rae just yet. I actually can't wait for it either (hehe); I'm gonna have sooooo much fun with it!**

**-IloveZimandNny16: I actually totally forgot about Rosaline when I made the cast list, so I just put her name in because she doesn't really show up during the play, she's just mentioned. So, yeah, that's part of the play and you basically summed up the situation with her/Romeo(Rephaim)/Juliet (Stevie Rae) and that's how the original went. Don't worry, he forgets all about Rosaline soon enough.**

**-flowergirl: Thanks! And I'm sorry to say he doesn't meet Stevie Rae this chapter, but it will happen soon enough.**

**-Guest: Thanks, and you should read Romeo and Juliet! It's sooo good. You know, if you type **No Fear Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet** into google and click on the first link, it will pop up and have a translation from old English into modern English so it's easier to read (I've used the website for school and for this FF). You should check it out!**

**-Guest: Thanks!**

**-baby Cyclopes: Thank you! I'm sorry for not updating faster.**

**-vampirelover18: Thanks and I'll try to update faster next time.**

**Everyone, I'm so sorry for not updating faster, and I'll try to get the next chapter posted sooner rather than later. Pretty please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything to do with HON or R&J or any of the characters/plot!**

**~Smiley**

* * *

Act 1 Scene 3

(curtain)

"Zoey! Have ya seen Stevie Rae?" Ginny Johnson asked her daughter's best friend.

"I swear to you, I already told her to come," Zoey said, but went out of the room to look for her anyway. "Come on! Where is she? What's she even up to?" Zoey mumbled to herself. "Stevie Rae!" she shouted.

"What is it? Who's callin' me?" Stevie Rae asked from the upstairs. You see, the Johnson's mansion was huge, kind of like a mini castle. The huge wooden doors opened up to reveal a huge room that let you see the other floors of the mansion. To put it in perspective, picture that scene in _Annie_ when she first entered Oliver Warbucks's mansion.

"Your mother," Zoey replied, shouting the words up to her. Stevie Rae zipped down the flights to get to her friend, and then they went to her mama's room together.

"Mama, I'm here. What's the matter?" Stevie Rae asked sweetly.

"I'll tell ya what's the matter—" Her mother paused and ushered all the servants out of the room, until only she, Stevie Rae, and Zoey remained. Without really thinking, Ginny shooed Zoey away too saying, "Zoey, dear, leave us alone for a little while. We must talk in private." She shut the door and turned towards her daughter. Then her eyes widened as she realized her mistake. "Zoey!" she called. "I just remembered: ya can listen to our secrets. Stevie Rae would just tell you anyway."

"Yeah," Stevie Rae and Zoey said at the same time.

"So what do ya want to talk about, Mama?" Stevie Rae asked.

"Marriage," she whispered excitedly.

"Marriage?" Zoey asked.

_Marriage? _Stevie Rae's mind echoed.

"Marriage!" Ginny practically squealed.

"What about it?" Stevie Rae asked, slightly breathless and feeling a little light-headed.

Taking a deep, excited breath, Ginny asked, "Tell me, baby girl, what do ya think about getting married?"

Dreamlike and stunned, the quote from her favorite play drifted through her mind, and she answered, "It is an honor that I dream not of."

But when her mind was back in thinking mode, she had to hold herself back from shouting, _Heck no! I don't wanna get married yet!_

"An honor!" Zoey squealed, jumping for joy. "She thinks it's an honor!" Zoey continued, hugging her BFF.

_An honor I don't want!_ Stevie Rae added silently.

"Well, ya should start dreamin' 'bout marriage now. Many girls younger than you are already mothers; heck, I was a mama when I was 'bout your age, but you're still a virgin. I'll just get to the point: Dallas wants you as his bride!" Ginny practically squealed the last part in excitement.

_Me? Dallas?_ Stevie Rae's mind felt like it was going to explode.

"Oh, Dallas! What a man, Stevie Rae! He's _so_ cute!" Zoey said, giggling.

_Yeah, maybe, but his he anything else?_ Stevie Rae thought to herself.

"Spring hasn't a flower as fine as him," Ginny stated.

"Oh, spring has never seen or dreamed of a finer flower than him! Really, he's the complete package!" Zoey added.

_A package implies multiple things, Zoey. All you guys are sayin' is that he's handsome. And hot. But that's basically the same thing and soooo doesn't make it a complete package. What if he's an incomplete package?_

Ginny turned to her daughter. "What do you say? Can you love him?"

_I haven't even met him! _Stevie Rae wanted to scream.

"You'll see him at the party tonight," Ginny continued. "The only thing this man lacks is a bride to make him perfect and complete. It's just plain wrong for a beauty like you to hide from a handsome man like him. Everyone loves him—" _Because he's a decent human being or because he's hot?_ "—and whoever becomes his bride will be just as admired. You would lose nothing by marrying him," Ginny said.

Zoey laughed. "In fact, you'd get bigger if you know what I mean," she said, waggling her eyebrows and gesturing to her abdomen.

_I'm not ready to get married, and I'm not ready to be a mother! _Stevie Rae screamed inwardly.

"Yes or no, can ya love him?" her mother asked.

"I'll meet him and try to like him, but I won't let myself fall for him any more than your permission allows," Stevie Rae answered. _And I won't fall for him at all if he's a complete jerk_, she added silently.

Then, a servant Stevie Rae recognized as Heath knocked on the door and entered. "Ma'am, the guests are here, and dinner is served. But people are looking for you and a few have asked for Stevie Rae. Basically, everything is out of control. I must go and serve the guests, but, I beg you, come right after me," Heath said to her mother.

"We'll follow ya. Stevie Rae, your man awaits," Ginny said, following Heath out the door.

Zoey caught Stevie Rae's hands and squeezed them before saying, "Go and look for a man who'll give you happy night at the end of happy days."

Then, arm in arm, Zoey and Stevie Rae went downstairs to the party, where Stevie Rae stepped squarely into her fate, and, as Zoey would say, the poo hit the fan.

* * *

**A/N**

**R&R pretty please! I'll update faster the more reviews I get!**

**~Smiley**


	6. Act 1 Scene 4

**A/N**

**Sorry! I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever, and I feel even worse because Stevie Rae and Rephaim don't meet in this chapter either! I'm as upset as you are. On another note, thanks to all who reviewed! Specifically…**

**-inquiete**

**-Fan Girly**

**-guest**

**-and lapdog**

**You guys are awesome, and again, I'm so sorry I haven't updated this sooner. However, I have not given up on this story or any of my other poor, neglected fanfics.**

**Disclaimer: How many times do I have to say I don't own HON, R+J, or No Fear Shakespeare (the site I'm using to help me along with this)?! I just don't own, 'kay?**

**~Smiley**

* * *

Act 1, Scene 4

(curtain)

"So what are we supposed to tell them when we show up at their party? Or do we not have an excuse or Plan B?" Rephaim asked, not exactly caring one way or the other. This was a bad idea; he just couldn't shake the haunting feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong. He sighed. His friends didn't care that they were going to get into trouble, so Rephaim was finding it hard to not feel the same.

Heartbreak will help you not be as perky as your friends, though.

Nisroc was the one who answered him. "Rephaim, we are wearing masks, as in, this is a masquerade ball. We're not exactly going to have to give our entire life-story at the door, and if they ask us who we are, we'll just give them fake names. Then we'll dance for a bit and leave. Not too hard, right?"

"I don't feel up to dancing, Nisroc. I'll stand to the side and watch you guys, though," Rephaim offered.

"Ha, that's a good one," Stark said, coming up beside Rephaim. He threw an arm around his shoulders and said, "You, my friend, just have to dance."

"Not me. Not tonight," Rephaim answered.

"Oh, Rephaim, don't be such a stick in the mud. C'mon, we're wasting precious daylight," Stark insisted, walking backwards in front of Rephaim.

"No we're not. It's nighttime," Rephaim countered, but he had no energy behind the words.

"Oh, you know what I mean, smart ass."

"And we don't mean anything by going to this party, but it isn't smart of us to go," Rephaim continued.

"I was invited, thank you very much. So, technically, I'm allowed in, and you guys are with me, so you should be allowed in," Stark said, letting Rephaim and everyone catch up to him so they were side-by-side again. "Why are you so against going?"

"Well, I had this dream last night," Rephaim said.

"Funny thing there, so did I," Stark replied.

"What was your dream?" Rephaim asked.

"It was about dreamers who often lie," Stark said.

"I suppose that's true; they lie in bed while they dream about the truth," Rephaim countered.

"I see you've been with Queen Mab," Stark said.

"Who the hell is Queen Mab, Stark?" Nisroc asked.

"Oh, you know, Queen Mab," Stark said, and continued in words that were not his own.

"She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate stone

On the forefinger of an alderman,

Drawn with a team of little atomi

Over men's noses as they lie asleep.

Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,

The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,

Her traces of the smallest spider's web,

Her collars of the moonshine's watery beams,

Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,

Her wagoner a small gray-coated gnat,

Not half so big as a round little worm

Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid."

"Worm from the finger of a girl?" Nisroc whispered the question to Rephaim.

"People used to believe that worms sprouted from the fingers of little girls who sat around and did nothing," Rephaim explained as Stark continued his.

"Her chariot is an empty hazelnut

Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.

And in this state she gallops night by night

Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love."

Stark's voice started to fill with power and emotion, and powerful emotion, and he ran in front of their group and kept up the explanation. His voice began to rise and its tempo began to speed up.

"On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight;

O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;

O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,

Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,

Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.

Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit.

And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail

Tickling a parson's nose as he lies asleep,

Then he dreams of another benefice.

Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,

And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

Of healths five fathom deep, and then anon

Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,

And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two

And sleeps again. This is that very Mab

That plaits the manes of horses in the night."

By now, Stark was shouting, as if possessed by an unexplainable and undesired need to make these words mean something, even if he wasn't quite sure what the meaning was.

"And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,

Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes."

Now he was screaming at the top of his lungs, and he was so far ahead of them yet they could hear every word he said. Rephaim started forward.

"This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,

That presses them and learns them first to bear,

Making them women of good carriage.

This is she—"

"Stark!" Rephaim yelled, now caught up with his friend, and he grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Enough," Rephaim continued quietly, laughing softly. "You are just talking about nonsense."

"True, my friend," said Stark, his voice now his to control. "After all, I'm talking of dreams."

"Yeah, well, this nonsense you're talking about is delaying us too long. What was that, anyway?" Nisroc asked; he and the rest of their friends had now caught up to them.

"Oh, c'mon, Nisroc. Don't you read?" Stark asked, back to his teasing, annoying self.

Nisroc rolled his eyes. "Well, now dinner is over, and we might get there too late."

"Then let's go!" Stark replied.

Everyone started forward, and Nisroc whispered to Rephaim, "I'm sorry I asked," before leaving him to take up the rear. Rephaim paused, and his eyes found the crescent moon surrounded by stars sketched into a black sky.

It was to the moon he spoke. "I fear we will arrive too early, not too late. That dream I had…well, I have a feeling I just can't seem to rid myself of. This party tonight will be the start of my own end," Rephaim said, but then he spoke to the stars. "But whoever the hell is in charge of my life can go ahead and do what they want with it!"

"Rephaim? C'mon!" Nisroc called back to him.

"I'm coming!" Rephaim immediately replied, and shoved his mask down on his face and jogged to catch up to his friends. He had finally shaken that god-awful foreboding he had carried with him since he had decided to attend his enemy's party.

(and scene)

* * *

**A/N**

**Review and they just might (finally) meet in the next scene!**

**-Smiley**


	7. Act 1 Scene 5

**A/N**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, inquiete and foxface333ChocolateLabrador! **

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND NOW, THE SCENE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR…**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own. Too lazy to do a decent disclaimer at the moment…**

**~Smiley **

* * *

Act 1, Scene 5

(curtain)

Nisroc, Stark, Rephaim and the rest of their friends got through the huge wooden doors just as John Johnson was making his welcome speech.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! Please, dance, eat, drink, and have fun! Y'all are welcome in my home tonight, and I hope you have an amazing time! Play, musicians, play! Let the people dance!"

Rephaim's friends instantly joined the party. Stark grabbed a girl with long black hair by the waist and swept her to the dance floor. Nearby, Nisroc was talking to another girl with mocha skin in a fiery red dress. Rephaim gave a small smile for his brother's and best friend's happiness, and he leaned back against the wall to sit back and watch.

Eventually he saw Rosaline. He watched her dirty blonde head as she joined the group dance. As everyone joined hands and danced in a circle, Rephaim's eyes got dizzy, and they finally landed on an angel, who, even when dancing around and around, made the world stand still for him. He had been getting dizzy and lost, but she had caught him and found him and grounded him. At that moment, he wasn't in a room full of crowded people; it was just him and her and no one else in the world.

Her face, framed by beautiful blonde curls, was partially covered by a mask of golden sparkles. But, even from across the room, he could tell that the sparkles of the mask couldn't dare to compare with the sparkles of her bright blue eyes.

He watched as she took the hand of a man wearing a respectable outfit. A white button-down shirt was tucked into his black pants. He had on black shoes, a silver tie, and a silver mask. They started to dance by themselves, just as everyone else found their respective partners. As the silver-masked man twirled the girl around, she caught his gaze, and when she smiled, he couldn't help but smile back and take notice of how her eyes sparkled even more when she smiled.

Standing stiffly upright next to him was a caterer, looking not unlike a servant waiting to be told what to do. Rephaim jumped up from the wall, and, turning to the man, he asked, "Who is the girl dancing with the guy over there?"

"You mean the girl with the golden mask?" he asked. Rephaim nodded.

"I don't know, sir," he replied.

"Well, thank you anyway," Rephaim said, and he took a couple steps to try and get a better view of her.

"By all the gods," Rephaim sighed. "She could teach candles to burn bright! She stands out against the darkness of this world like a star on a moonless night. Her pure beauty is too good for this world, yet she's too beautiful to die and buried. She outshines the other women here like a white dove among a flock of crows. Look at her smile; listen to her laugh. Watch the way she dances; wonder how something so pure has made it through this corrupted thing called life. Oh, before the night is over, I have to at least talk to her. Did my heart ever love anyone else before this moment? If it is so, then my eyes were liars, for I have never seen true beauty until this moment."

Rephaim, quite frankly, didn't realize two highly important things: one, he had spoken aloud, and two, a very unpleasant someone had heard—and recognized—him.

Staring upon Rephaim with a disgusted sneer, Danny's anger spiked. To his friend, he said, "I can tell just by his voice that he's a Raven Mocker. I knew I shoulda brought my knife. What, does he come just to sneer and scorn under a mask at our celebration? By this amount of rudeness, I don't think it would be called a crime to kill him."

"What's wrong, son? Why do ya look so worked up?" John Johnson asked, putting the hand that wasn't holding a beer on his son's shoulder.

"Dad, he's a Raven Mocker—our enemy. The bastard bird has showed up out of spite to mock our party."

Not noticing that they were even glancing in his general direction, Rephaim absently pushed his mask up on top of his head, trying to get a better look at the angel.

"Why, is that young Rephaim?" John asked, and Ginny walked up to see what was the matter.

"That's him, the son of a bitch," Danny replied.

"Oh, calm down, son. Just leave the boy alone. He's carryin' himself like a gentleman, and, to tell you the truth, everyone says he is a pleasant, well-behaved young man. Besides, you should look nice and stop frowning because that's not the way you should behave a party," Ginny said, and John nodded. "Take your sister for example," Ginny continued, "she's smilin' and dancin' with Dallas!"

"Mama, it's the right way to behave when a bastard like him shows up. I won't tolerate him," Danny argued stubbornly.

"You _will_ tolerate him. You _will_ behave like a gentleman. You _will_ obey me and your mama, and you _will _not start a fight among the guests!" John commanded.

"But, Dad, we're being disrespected," Danny insisted.

"If you're going to act like a little boy, then I'm going to send you to your room," Ginny warned. "Do not disobey me or your daddy. Go smile and join the fun, or leave until the party's over."

Danny was so mad that his body was entire body was trembling. "Okay, I understand, Mama, Dad," Danny said, and his parents, satisfied, smiled and then left to go talk to more guests. As Danny turned to leave, he mumbled under his breath, "I'll leave here now, but Rephaim will regret ever settin' foot in my home."

Meanwhile, Stevie Rae really had been dancing with Dallas, who had decided to take her father's advice about trying to woo her. He told her his entire life story, and she had listened. She had told him some funny stories, and he had laughed at the right places. But he didn't _really_ seem that into what she was saying. But then he brought up the dreaded topic: marriage. He told her of his plan to marry her, and how he had spoken to her father about it.

Thankfully, the song had just ended, so Stevie Rae was able to slip away into the courtyard without giving him a reply. Dallas hadn't seen where she had been headed, and neither had Rephaim. However, the noise and heat and crowd of the party were enough to make Rephaim feel slightly claustrophobic, and he decided that it might help to step outside for a minute. Remembering he had pushed up the mask, he pulled the black thing pack over his face.

Rephaim finally found the doorway to the courtyard, but he didn't expect to find her. "I-I just—I just can't marry him! I only just met him maybe ten minutes ago, and he wants me to marry him! What's worse, he asked my daddy about it before we had even met!"

The girl in the shimmering white dress was pacing back and forth by the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Although the courtyard was completely surrounded by the rest of the mansion, it was huge and bursting with tall, thick bushes and thousands of different flowers. Rephaim froze just inside the courtyard, and, because the tall, round hedge created a circle around the fountain with only one opening, he was at an angle where he could see the angel, but she couldn't see him.

"Am I even ready to be married?" she asked herself, her voice now much more quiet, but she wasn't quiet enough for Rephaim to not hear. "Should I be ready to be married? Ugh, I don't know, but I do know that he is moving way too fast." As if to try and stop how fast this man, whose name was unknown to Rephaim, was moving, she sat down heavily on the edge of the fountain.

She looked up at the stars, and it was to them the question was directed. "I should be in love before I'm married, right?" she asked to no one and everyone.

He knew the question wasn't directed towards him, but he couldn't help but answer anyway. "Of course. The entire point of marriage is to vow your never-ending love for someone, is it not?"

She gasped and jumped up, turning to face him as he walked through the opening in the hedge and towards the fountain. "Well, yes," she said, her eyes wide and her voice slightly shocked. "Why, yes!" she said, her voice filled with realization.

"And if you have to be in love before you're married, doesn't that mean you'll know when you're ready?"

"Of course! That's it!" The girl looked relieved under her golden mask, and her blue eyes sparkled as she bounded over to him. Her curls bounced as she grasped both his hands. "Thank you!" she said excitedly; then she repeated gratefully, "Thank you."

She didn't let go of his hands, and he didn't let go of hers. When she finally realized what she was doing and tried to jerk her hand away, he grabbed one and said, "Your hand is like a holy place that my hand is unworthy to visit. If you're offended by the touch of my hand, my two lips are standing here blushing like pilgrims, ready to make things better with a kiss." With the hand that wasn't holding hers, he pushed the mask on top of his head.

_Ohmygood_ness, she thought, _he's hotter than a Verona blacktop in the middle of the summer_.

Glad her mask covered enough of her face to hide her blush, she replied, slightly breathlessly, "Good pilgrim, you aren't givin' your hand enough credit. By holdin' my hand, you're showin' polite devotion. After all, pilgrims touch the statues of saints' hands. Holdin' one palm against another is like a kiss."

"But don't saints and pilgrims have lips as well?" Rephaim asked. He was completely and utterly memorized by her bright, blue, innocent eyes. In her shining white dress with blue eyes and blonde air, she looked just like Rephaim always pictured an angel would look like.

"Uh-huh," Stevie Rae answered breathlessly. She didn't even know his name, yet she was completely falling for him. He was charming and sweet and kind…and, best of all, it didn't seem like he was moving too fast. He was trying to charm her before he tried to talk about something as serious as marriage. She hadn't known him for more than ten minutes, but she knew he would be in her thoughts and in her dreams all night. Could it be love at first sight?

Finally realizing she hadn't really given a proper answer, she cleared her throat and said, "Yes, pilgrim. They have lips that they're supposed to use in prayer."

Slowly, oh so slowly, he intertwined his fingers with hers. Gently, oh so gently, he reached with his other hand and removed her mask. His eyes searched hers, and, in doing so, he searched her soul. As deep brown met bright blue, she did the same.

"Well then, saint, let lips do what hands do. My prayer, dear saint, is for you to kiss me. I beg of you, grant my prayer so my faith doesn't turn to despair."

Stevie Rae was finding it hard to breathe. Maybe he was playing her, maybe he wasn't. At the moment, she didn't care. At the moment, she didn't know anything except that he had completely captured her heart. Finally, she managed to say, "But saints don't move, even when they grant prayers."

"Then do not move, so much like a statue of the saint you are, while I take life into my own hands. Stay still while I make my own prayer come true."

As he had been speaking, his other arm had wrapped around her waist, gently pulling her closer to him. The last of his words had barely passed through his lips before he bent down and pressed them to hers.

Stevie Rae knew what was coming; she just didn't know what to expect from it. Honestly, she was shocked at how gentle but passionate he was. She melted into him, loving the feeling that had taken control of her entire body. The kiss was so sweet and kind and loving…and perfect.

When they finally broke apart, Rephaim was the first to speak. "And now my sin has been taken from my lips by yours."

Blushing furiously and sounding even more breathless than she had before, Stevie Rae asked, "Then do my lips now have the sin they took from yours?"

"Sin from my lips? Your sweetness encourages crime. Give me my sin back," he replied, and he bent down and pressed his lips to hers once again. This one lasted much longer, but it was no less gentle or passionate. It was just as perfect, if not more. The hand that held her golden mask reached up from her back to cup her face, tenderly caressing her with indescribable love and compassion. The other hand moved to her back, slowly trailing his fingers in a circle on the small of her back innocently, not trying to go too far or make her in the least bit uncomfortable. She felt completely relaxed and safe.

The second they broke apart was the second Zoey found them by the fountain. She was still just out of hearing range, so Stevie Rae quickly whispered, "Ohmygood_ness_, you kiss like you've studied how."

Rephaim didn't get the chance to reply before he saw Zoey. He scrambled to put his mask back on and give Stevie Rae, whose name he still did not know, hers back, but, without giving him a second thought, Zoey said, "Stevie Rae, you're mama's looking for you."

_Stevie Rae? As in…Stevie Rae _Johnson_?_ Rephaim thought to himself.

Reluctantly, Stevie Rae moved away to go find her mother, all the while wishing Zoey could have taken a little more time trying to find her.

Rephaim swallowed and asked the black-haired girl, "Who is her mother?"

"Her mom's Mrs. Johnson, of course. She's really nice. I kind of moved in with them after my mom married my awful stepdad. I'm Zoey, the best friend of her daughter, whom you were just talking to. Let me tell you, the man who marries her will be very lucky."

"Thank you," Rephaim said, nodding politely at her. They shook hands, but Rephaim was staring over her shoulder distractedly, wishing he could have just one more glimpse of the angel he had spoken with.

Zoey turned and walked away, probably to go find her friend. When he was alone, Rephaim allowed himself to turn and look in the fountain and say to his reflection, "She's a Johnson?! Oh, gods, this is a heavy price to pay. My life, my heart, is in the hands of my enemy."

Nisroc hadn't heard what he had said, but he came up behind him almost immediately after the words had left his lips. "Come on, Rephaim. The best time to leave is when things are the most fun."

Rephaim turned to look at his brother. "Yes, but I'm afraid I'm in more trouble than ever."

They met up with Stark and the rest of their friends by the front door. However, John Johnson was there, ready to stop them. "No, gentlemen, don't get ready to go now. We still have dessert coming up!"

Stark, always the one with a quick excuse, whispered in John's ear. "Is that really true? Well, then, thank you for coming, boys. I hope you had fun. Good night!" Mr. Johnson said, stepping aside and rejoining his other guests.

Across the room, Stevie Rae spotted Rephaim leaving with his friends. Quite suddenly, she realized she didn't even know his name! "Zoey!" she squealed. "Over there," she pointed, "who is that man?"

"I believe that's your cousin, Tommy," she answered.

"No! I know him! I mean who's the one going out the door right now?" she asked.

"Oh! That's Stark. James Stark. He's so cute, Stevie Rae! We danced all night! I'll have to tell you all about it later."

"I definitely wanna hear 'bout that, Z, but who's the one following him, the one who wouldn't dance?"

"I don't know his name," Zoey replied.

"Please, go ask," she pleaded, and Zoey hurried over to catch him before he could get too far. To herself, Stevie Rae mumbled, "If he's married, I think I'd rather die than marry anyone else." She tapped her foot and picked at her nails as she waited anxiously for Zoey to return.

When she finally did, she looked worried. "His name is Rephaim. Stevie Rae, he's a Raven Mocker, and not just any Raven Mocker. He's the oldest and most beloved son of your most hated enemy."

Stevie Rae wanted to smack herself in the forehead. "My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathed enemy," she said under her breath.

"Huh?" Zoey asked.

"Oh, just a rhyme I learned from someone I danced with," Stevie Rae lied. Zoey could tell she was lying, but before she could make her tell her the truth, someone called Stevie Rae from another room.

"C'mon, let's go. Everyone is gone now, and someone's calling you," Zoey said, and the two went to go see who was calling.

(curtain)

* * *

**A/N**

**YAY! They finally met! Honestly, I think this scene was my favorite one to write so far. Hope you all had as much fun reading it as I did writing it! Happy Holidays everyone! Please remember to review!**

**Oh, and pop quiz! What does the line, "Wherfore art thou Romeo?" mean? Virtual snowman cookie for anyone who gets this right!**

**~Smiley **


	8. Act 2 Prologue

**A/N**

**Special thanks to all who reviewed, specifically…**

**-SwifteForeverAndAlways: cookie for you! On a side note, so Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title.**

**-Mockingjay272: cookie for you! You know your balcony scene! ;)**

**-Stephaim Fan**

**-inquiete**

**-Guest**

**You are all wonderful and amazing people! Your reviews keep this story going, and, because Romeo and Juliet has got to be the fluffiest play known to Shakespeare, it seemed only fitting that this is up around Valentine's Day. The next real scene part will be up soon!**

**And Fun Fact: "Wherefore art thou Romeo," really means, "Why are you Romeo," not, "Where are you, Romeo," which is a common misconception. You see, the beginning of the balcony scene is pretty much Juliet talking to herself about how she had fallen in love with a Montague, her enemy. She's asking (the air, moon, sky, stars, her imaginary friend William) why Romeo has to have the last name Montague because if he wasn't a Montague, then their love would be acceptable. However, tis not to be.**

**Aaaaaaaand with that, I leave you with a disclaimer and another chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own HON or R+J. Sorry.**

**~Smiley**

* * *

Act 2 Prologue

(curtain)

_Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,_

Rephaim's soooo over Rosaline

_And young affection gapes to be his heir._

And this new thingy with Stevie Rae is more than happy to take its place

_That fair for which love groaned for and would die_

Rephaim thought he loved Rosaline

_With tender Juliet matched, is now not fair._

But she is nothing compared to Stevie Rae

_Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,_

For now he is in love and loved in return

_Alike bewitchèd by the charm of looks,_

Both bewitched by the others good locked

_But to his foe supposed he must complain,_

But now he's got to tell his enemy he loves her

_And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks._

And she's been hooked by someone she's supposed to fear

_Being held a foe, he may not have access_

But because he is her family's foe, he won't be able

_To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear._

To exchange vows of love with her

_And she as much in love, her means much less_

And she is just as in love with him, but she much less able

_To meet her new beloved anywhere._

To meet her new-found love anywhere.

_But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,_

But their love lends them power, and time gives them means to meet

_Tempering extremities with extreme sweet._

Making the extreme danger all the more sweet.

* * *

**A/N**

**Review please! The next chapter (which will be the actual scene) should be up tomorrow or the next day.**

**~Smiley**


	9. Act 2 Scene 1

**A/N**

**Special thanks to all who reviewed! Specifically…**

**-inquiete (thanks!)**

**-SwifteForeverAndAlways (True, very true.)**

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNN D I PROUDLY PRESENT TO YOU, KIND READERS, THE BALCONY SCENE! Well, my version of it anyway. **

**Disclaimer: Funny thing there, I seem to have misplaced my rights to the House of Night series and Romeo and Juliet. Oh, wait, that's right! I never had any in the first place!**

**~Smiley**

* * *

Act 2, Scene 1

(curtain)

Rephaim had been following Stark, Nisroc, and the rest of his friends down the front steps when someone tapped him on the shoulder repeatedly.

"Excuse me?" the girl he had briefly met earlier, the one who had told Stevie Rae her mother was looking for her, the one who had told him her name was Zoey, asked as he turned around. "Hey, uh, what's your name?"

Rephaim thought fast. Would she freak out if she knew a Raven Mocker had come to her friend's party? "Who is asking?" he questioned.

Zoey gave him A Look. "Tell me your name first, and then I'll tell you who's asking."

"Very well. My name is Rephaim," he replied in a low voice.

Zoey's eyes widened, but she scream or alert everyone that he was there. However, it probably wouldn't have done much good if she had anyway, as Rephaim and his friends were just leaving. Zoey nodded at him and whispered, "Stevie Rae," before sprinting back up the steps.

_She had been asking about him? She had been wondering who he was?_ Rephaim could have shouted his joy to the on looking stars above. Rephaim stared at his friends who were either still dancing or stumbling around after having one too many beers. They were all heading back home, but…but how could he walk away when his heart remained. He just had to see her again!

Rephaim turned and slipped away into the shadows, running to where he didn't know. But he trusted whoever was guiding his life knew where to take him, and he kept his feet moving.

Meanwhile, Stark and Nisroc, who were laughing hysterically at nothing and leaning on each other for support, turned around, ready to tell Rephaim something. Unfortunately, they couldn't find him, and, even though their vision was a little hazy, they still should have been able to see someone who had been right behind them a second ago.

"Rephaim!" Nisroc shouted. "Brother! Where did you go?" The question was a little slurred, but Nisroc's ears still worked perfectly fine. He could just make out the pounding of boots against the stone streets. "Rephaim!" Nisroc called again, turning around and sprinting in the direction of the sound of the footsteps, who he was willing to bet belonged to his brother.

Stark groaned but followed, and the rest of their group trailed along after them as well, laughing and clanking bottles and dancing.

Rephaim, however, could hear them coming, but he had run into a dead end of sorts. He knew the only thing between him and his heart was this stupid ivy-covered wall. He heard another shout followed by drunken laughter. Without letting his mind talk himself out of it, he grabbed the ivy and started to climb, up and up, until he was able to throw himself over the wall.

"You know," Stark said, stumbling after Nisroc. They had reached a dead end; they had run smack into the orchard wall. "You know, Rephaim-Rephaim's a smart boy. I bet he went home-he went home to bed."

"No. He ran this way and climbed over this stonewall. I'm sure of it," Nisroc insisted. "You call him too, Stark."

Stark didn't bother stifling his groan, but shouted, "Rephaim! C'mon! Rephaim! Come out come out wherever you are!"

"Rephaim! Brother!" Nisroc shouted.

Stark turned to Nisroc and said, "This isn't working. He doesn't hear us."

"Keep trying," Nisroc replied, and called for his brother again.

Stark gave a mock-contemplating look and shouted, "Rephaim! I summon you by the beauty of your fair Rosaline! I command you to appear by her red lips and her luscious locks and by all the parts of her I dare not shout! By all of these things, Rephaim, I summon you to us in your truest form!"

"If he hears you, he'll be angry," Nisroc warned.

"Nah," said Stark, "he'd be angry if I summoned some random guy for his Rosaline to have sex with. All I'm doing is using his love's name to lure him out of the darkness."

Nisroc sighed. "Oh, come on. Now he's just hiding from us. There's no point in looking for my brother when he doesn't want to be found."

"Yeah, okay, whatever," Stark said, and the two followed the rest of the group back home.

Rephaim, who had stolen refuge in the trees at the top of the wall, watched them leaving for moment. "You know, Stark, it's easy to joke about scars when you've never felt the wound."

Rephaim jumped down from the tree to take in his surroundings. He had scrambled up and over the orchard wall, but the garden before him was as beautiful as it was in the daylight, if not even more so. Small trees with loosely hanging branches were covered with white, delicate flowers that contrasted with the darkness of the night, making the flowers look like the bright stars in a moonless sky.

Rephaim allowed himself to wander through the garden a little more, stopping by the rose bushes. The plants were arranged in an effortless pattern, going back and forth between red roses and white. Rephaim smiled as he thought about roses and their meanings, and he picked two off, one red and one white, and put them in his large pocket.

Finally, Rephaim came to the end of the gorgeous garden that held more wondrous beauty than he could describe. Instead of the countless flowers, Rephaim found himself staring at a lot of ivy, and he followed the plant up to a large balcony. The glass sliding doors were open, and the golden, see-through curtains were covering the opening, guarding the majority of the contents of the room. However, Rephaim could just about see the silhouette of a beautiful girl, one Rephaim was sure he had seen not too long ago.

"Come out, dear sun, and kill the envious moon," Rephaim whispered to himself. The wind hadn't carried his words to her, but she stepped out into the cool night air anyway. Walking to the edge of the balcony, she leaned against the structured concrete wall and sighed. "Stevie Rae!" Rephaim breathed, his heart leaping. "Oh, I wish you knew how much I loved you. Oh, you're eyes shine brighter than the brightest of stars. Oh, look how she leans her hand upon her cheek! Oh, I wish I were a glove upon that hand, so I may touch that cheek!"

And then Rephaim realized how incredibly corny he sounded, and was quite grateful she hadn't heard anything he had said.

Meanwhile, up on the balcony, Stevie Rae had no idea that Rephaim was even in the shadows of the trees, much less hear every word she said. Perhaps it was the thought that she was alone that made her speak her thoughts aloud.

"Oh, good_ness_, Rephaim, why do you hafta be Rephaim? Why do you hafta be a Raven Mocker?" She sighed, looking up at the stars as if they held the answer in their white depts. "Forget about your daddy and change your name."

While she paced along the length of the balcony, trailing her hand on the stone railing, Rephaim thought, _Could I betray my father like that? Could I change my name and just no longer be my father's son? Is it that simple? _But then he thought_, Would I want change myself for a love that required me to change? _He did not believe that was something true love should demand.

Stevie Rae stopped suddenly. "Or, if you don't wanna change your name, just swear your love to me and I'll stop being a Johnson."

And that was when Rephaim knew, without a doubt, that he was truly and undeniably in love and loved in return. If you love someone enough to even consider changing for them, then that's great, but when they love you enough to change for you, that's when you know you've found someone. And when both of you are willing to change, no one will need to.

Rephaim whispered, too quietly for his love to hear, "Should I listen to her more, or should I speak at this?"

"I mean," Stevie Rae continued, "it's only your name that's my enemy. You'd still be you even if you weren't a Raven Mocker. What's a Raven Mocker anyway? It isn't a hand or foot or arm or face or any other part of a man. Oh, be some other name!" Stevie Rae took a deep breath. "Oh, what's in a name anyway. A rose would still smell as sweet if we called it by any other name. Rephaim would be just as perfect if he wasn't called Rephaim. Oh, Rephaim, lose your name. Trade in your name—which will change nothing about you—and take all of me in exchange." Stevie Rae wrapped her arms around herself and sank back down so she was leaning against the balcony again.

"I trust what you say. Just call me your love, and I'll never be Rephaim again!" Rephaim blurted before he could stop himself. This time, he had spoken too loudly, and his words had been carried up to his heart.

Stevie Rae's eyes widened as she took scrambled steps back from the edge of the balcony. "Who's there? Why are you hidin' and listen' to my private thoughts!"

"I don't know how to tell you who I am by name, dear saint. I hate my name simply for being your enemy!" he called up to her.

"I know I haven't known your voice for too long, but I swear I recognize it. Aren't you Rephaim? And a Raven Mocker?"

"I am neither of those things if you dislike them."

"How in Sam Hill did you get in here? The walls are high, and they're hard to climb over. And, and…And if any of my family finds you here, they'd kill you dead in a minute!"

"Stone walls cannot keep love out, so I flew over them on love's wings. Whatever a man in love can possibly do, his love will make him try to do it. That is why your relatives are no obstacle."

"If they see you, they'll murder you!" Stevie Rae shouted quietly.

"Perhaps, but one angry look from you would be worse than twenty of your kinsmen with swords. Just look at me kindly, and I'll be invincible against their hatred," Rephaim said.

"I'd give anything to keep them from seein' you here."

"Night's darkness cloaks me. And if you don't love me, let them find me. I would rather be killed by their hatred than live without your love."

"Who told ya how to get here, below my bedroom?" Stevie Rae asked.

Rephaim chuckled. "I would like to believe love showed me the way."

Stevie Rae smiled down at him, and then took a shaky breath. "I'd like to keep up good manners and deny the things I said, but forget good manners. Do you love me?"

Rephaim opened his mouth to answer, but she kept talking. "I know you'll say yes, and I'll believe you. But if you swear you love me, you might turn out to be lying. So, if you love me, say it truly. Honestly, Rephaim, I like you too much, so you might think I'm too free with my heart. I really should've been a little bit more standoffish, but you overheard me talking about the love in my heart when I didn't know ya were there. So, forgive me, and please don't think that because you won my heart so easily that my love isn't serious."

"My fair lady," Rephaim said, "I swear by the silver moon—"

"Oh, please, don't swear by the ever-changing moon. I don't want you to be inconsistent too."

"Then what should I swear by?"

"Don't swear at all. But if you have to swear, swear by your wonderful self, and then I'll believe you."

"Of my heart's dear love—"

"Wait, don't swear. Although you make me very happy, I can't be happy with the exchange of promises tonight. It's too crazy and sudden, and we haven't done enough thinkin'. Our love, which is like a rosebud in the summer, may turn out to be a beautiful flower the next time we meet. I hope you enjoy the same peace and rest I feel in my heart. Good night!" She turned to dash inside.

"Would you leave me here so unsatisfied?" Rephaim called, halting her.

"What satisfaction could you possibly have tonight?" she asked.

"I would be satisfied if we made each other true promises of love."

"I pledged my love to you before you asked me to. I almost wish I could take the promise back, so I had it to give again."

"You would take it back? Why would you do that, my love?"

"Only so I could give it to you again!" Stevie Rae replied. "Oh, Rephaim, I hear a noise inside." She threw her head over her shoulder and called, "Just a minute, Z!" Then turning back to him, she said, "Oh, Rephaim, stay here for a moment. I'll be right back."

She hurried inside but returned almost as quickly as she had left. "Okay, one thing real quick, Rephaim, then it's good bye for real. If your intentions are honorable and you do wanna marry me, send word tomorrow. I'll send a messenger to you, and then you can tell her when and where we'll be married. I'll lay everything I have at my feet, my love, and follow you all over the world."

"Stevie Rae!" someone called from inside.

"I'll be right there!" she called to them, but then turned to him and said, "But if you don't have honorable intentions, I beg you—"

"Stevie Rae!"

"I'm coming! But I beg you, stop trying for me, and leave me to my sadness. I'll send word tomorrow."

"My soul depends on it—"

"Good night!" Then she hurried inside.

Rephaim stared after her for a moment, and then finally turned to leave. However, Stevie Rae had just run back out onto the balcony, calling for him. Rephaim immediately turned back around.

"What time should I send the messenger tomorrow?"

"By nine o'clock," he answered.

"Okay," she stared dreamily at him for a minute. "I forgot why I called you back."

"Then allow me to do something while you remember the reason," Rephaim said, using the ivy and a nearby tree to climb up onto the balcony.

"I must confess I took these from your garden," Rephaim said, pulling out the roses he had picked, "but I think you'll forgive me when you hear me out. The white rose is said to symbolize purity and worthiness. I know you are the purest and most beautiful woman in the world, but I am not sure if I am worthy of you. Be I or be I not, I swear I will never take you for granted as long as I shall live. The red rose has always been used to say, 'I love you,' and the thorn-less rose is 'love at first sight.' When given together, the white and red roses symbolize unity, as I hope there to be between us. And when to roses are entwined together," Rephaim twisted the stems together as he spoke, and then dropped to one knee, "is supposed to communicate 'Marry me.'"

Stevie Rae threw her arms around him, and he responded by picking her up and spinning her around. "You already know my answer is yes," she whispered, and he kissed her then, long and slow and filled with all the love he had for her.

The two broke apart, and Rephaim started to climb back down. "Oh, good night," Stevie Rae said, catching his hand.

"Good night, dear saint," Rephaim said, leaving the roses in her hand as he dropped down to the earth. "You will hear from me tomorrow."

Stevie Rae smiled and slowly went back inside, looking over her shoulder at him as she did so.

"Sweet dreams," Rephaim whispered.

(and scene)

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**A/N**

**Review please! You just got a whole lot of fluff, so reviews would be much appreciated!**

**~Smiley**


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